thought I was the likeliest side-stepper that ever did a grass-chopping specialty. The only drawback they found was that I didn't hit the ball. It's immense for the chest measurement to have the bunch hand you out the salve spiel—believe me! I took my lady friend out Westchester way last week and on the road I was Reckless Robert with the big talk. It's a habit with me to go up and butt the ceiling every time my lady friend is near enough to listen. Most of us young guys are gushers with the loud language when the Best and Only is in the building. How we do like to gather the gab and hand out hints to the heroine that she's gazing on the greatest ever! When Clara Jane asked me if I knew the game I told her that I used to room with the man that built the first links. When she asked me his name I told her it was McDougall, because that's the name of a head-waiter who helps to spend my money. She asked me if I knew what a lofter is and I said, "Sure, I eat them for breakfast every morning!" When we reached Westchester we met a Society duck named Lionel von Hamburg. I think his father invented the Hamburger steak. Lionel was all to the best. He was Finnegan the Fine Boy, for sure. One of those tart little red coats squeezed his shape, and around his neck he had a pink stock that was waiting for a chance to choke him. My lady friend met this gilly once at a bean soiree and she was his evening star. They sat on the stairs together and put a kink in the caramels. When the gong sounded for the ice-cream that night Lionel had dipped her out a tubful, and he was sure she liked him for his boyish ways. So on this occasion it was Lionel's play to give me the low tackle and claim
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